Broken
by NeedsmoarDelta
Summary: A hospitalized Blair reminisces about her relationship with Chuck. Slightly AU.


_A/N: A challenge fic from F/R. The ending is kind of rushed, but I tried. :) __As always, con-crit is appreciated. _

Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Blair Waldorf struggled to keep her skinny ass on the narrow windowsill, pulling on her navy blue Constance skirt until it covered her knees. Five days. It had been five days since she had been admitted to this shithole, and she had yet to receive some fresh clothes.

Blair gazed out the grimy window, alternating glances between her chipped French manicure and the medley of cabs, people and buildings that was New York City.

She would give up her entire trust fund to be there…………..

_Blair slammed her champagne glass down on the sticky mahogany bar with such force that the stem broke into small pieces; showering her arm __in the golden liquid and miniscule shards of glass. Blair barely noticed the blood tricking down her arm; she was too focused on the scene she had just witnessed: Chuck Bass, surrounded by half naked girls, one of wh__om__ had planted a kiss on his __full lips. _

_Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes; she wiped them away with edge of her chiffon tunic-another Eleanor Waldorf original. She knew that Chuck was an asshole, a guy who could never stick to one girl. Why had she even considered-no, hoped, that she would be exception?_

_"Would you like another glass, Miss Waldorf?"_

_Blair shook her head no; the lump in her throat prevented her from speaking. She motioned for a shot glass and a bottle of something potent; she didn't give a fuck what it was, as long as it would get her drunk as quickly as possible. _

_The bartender obliged and Blair watched with a dreamy __fascination, leaning forward and resting her chin on the rich wood of the bar, which had seen better days. The__ clear liquid filled the __miniscule __glass;__ Blair __grabbed it__ out of the bartender__'__s hand before he had a chance to put the g__lass down on the rough wood, downing the drink in less than ten seconds. __Risking a glance back at Chuck, Blair noticed that he now had both girls on his lap, the redhead running her fingers through his dark hair. _

_Blair turned around, glancing at her manicure in a devil-may-care way, trying to ignore __sinking feeling in her stomach and the still lingering lump in her throat. _

_She knew she shouldn't turn around and look again, but it was a stubborn compulsion and the strange desire to torture herself that had her fac__ing__ Chuck once more. A blonde had joined the little threesome; clad in a lacy slip similar to the one Blair had worn out partying weeks earlier. __There was something about her that Blair couldn't put her finger on__, something __that reminded her of Serena._

_The blonde hair was obvious, so were the enviable lithe limbs that made Blair feel even more fat and inadequate than usual. There was a__n__ attitude, a certain je ne sais quoi that this anonymous blonde possessed; similar to Blair's on again, off again best friend. Both of them were blessed with the ability to __have every man in a room stop and stare. Or better yet__, to have the one guy you loved actually pay attention to you, and you alone. _

_The blonde leaned over and kissed Chuck on his tanned, sweaty forehead, his fingers roaming from her shin to the tops of her thighs, grazing the edge of the lace trimmed slip. The unpleasant image of Serena and Chuck flew into Blair's mind; she tried to think of others things, like puppies. Blair nodded. Puppies were good. A cute little golden retriever puppy, rolling over on his belly, looking up at her with soulful__ brown eyes……..Serena's in Chuck's lap……he was kissing her neck__….her hands fiddling with his belt loops…..Blair squeezed her eyes closed, hoping that the images would go away. __But they grew more intense; in Blair's mind Serena and the__ anonymous blonde__ were one and the same. __Fuck this. Blair reached into her wallet and grabbed a handful of bills, tossing them at the bartender. Staggering to her feet__ she tried to walk out of the bar with as much dignity as she could muster. __Said dignity was crushed when she fell flat on her face trying to hail a cab. __Five inch Christian Louboutin stilettos were definitely not the most practical footwear. But who ever said Blair was practical?_

_"Where to__?"_

_"Seventy- Ninth and Park.__"_

* * *

_The key scraped the ornate gold lock; a perfectly manicured hand pushed open the door. Blair blinked in the dim lighting, running her hand against the smooth plaster wall in an attempt to find the light switch. The foyer was empty and judging by the darkness of the rest of the penthouse, she was alone. With the room bathed in the artificial glow of a chandelier suspended from the ceiling above, she noticed a tiny, robin's egg blue box sitting on a side table. Her curiosity piqued, Blair picked up the box, the card falling on the marble floor unnoticed. _

_A white gold pendant rested on white velvet; a diamond encrusted letter B dangling from the simple, elegant chain. Blair smiled and undid the clasp; putting on the necklace with the exaggerated caution of a jewelry salesperson. She glanced at her reflection in the oversized mirror hanging above the small table. The diamonds sparkled in the warm lighting; Blair blew a kiss at her __mirrored self__, certain that the pendant was a gift from Chuck to say, "I'm sorry." She kicked off her heels (much to the relief of her aching feet) and was about to head upstairs to her room when she noticed the forgotten card lying on the freshly waxed floor. __Hopping __from foot to foot trying to keep warm on the cold floor, Blair picked up the card, her b__rown __eyes skimming over the fancy gold lettering. _

_Dear Blair Bear,_

_Giles and I were in Tiffany__'s__ the other day and I thought of you when I saw this. _

_Love,_

_Dad_

_The pendant that looked so beautiful before now seemed ugly; the glittery diamonds had morphed into cheap, tacky, dime store rhinestones. It felt like there was a noose made of iron w__rapped around Blair's __neck; cho__king her and weighing her down. She grabbed the chain and pulled as hard as she could, __snapping__ it in two. The necklace __laid__ in Blair's hand, she threw it on the table and ran towards the kitchen, anywhere to get away from the necklace, the note, everything. Blair's nose began to itch and the lump in her throat grew- a sure signal that she was going to cry. _

_No. I can't cry._ _That's stupid, to cry over something so small, Blair thought. I have to think of something else. _

_She opened the refrigerator door, scanning the contents inside. __An unidentifiable object covered in plastic wrap. __Some cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, arranged on a china plate.__ A bottle of Taittinger compte de champagne rose. Chinese leftovers from a takeout place across the street, no doubt belonging to her brother, Tyler. Blair grabbed the cupcakes and the champagne, sitting on one of the redwood stools surrounding the kitchen island, stained a coordinating color. _

_With the ferocity__ of a lion attacking a fresh kill, Blair stuffed the garishly frosted cupc__a__ke into her mouth, spilling crumbs onto her dress and getting frosting on her __glossy curls. __Blair stuffed another in her mouth, washing it down with a swig of champagne straight from the bottle.__ It became a familiar rhythm: chomp, chew, __and wash__ it down with champagne. __Ten cupcakes and a quarter of a bottle of champagne later, Blair's rhythm changed__, to something much more familiar_

_The patter of feet slamming against the marble floor as she ran across the foyer to the bathroom.__Kneeling in front of the toilet, her knuckle touching the back of her throat.__ Tears springing in the corners of her eyes, a flush of the toilet and it was over. Blair slumped against the wall, wiping her moth with the back of her hand. Something shiny caught her eye and she squinted, taking in the drops of crimson but not registering their significance._

_Her breath caught in her throat and in a panic, she reached out to the only person she could: her best friend. _

* * *

"Blair!" the nurse's bright and cheerful voice grated on Blair's nerves even more than usual, "Blair, you have a visitor!" 

The woman smiled, ushering in a flustered Serena, overloaded with bags from various boutiques and department stores around the city.

"Hey," Serena attempted a small wave, an almost impossible task with the gargantuan Barney's shopping bag she held in her right hand.

"Hey yourself," Blair smiled feebly at Serena's child like enthusiasm.

"So," Serena dropped all of the bags on the linoleum floor and perched on the windowsill uncomfortably.

"So what?" Blair couldn't help letting the bitterness take over.

"So……." Serena bit her lower lip and studied her ragged cuticles, "So, I brought you some clothes," she said, indicating the overflowing shopping bags on the floor.

Blair felt herself smiling, in spite of the everyday sullenness that had consumed her. Digging through an overwhelming amount of tissue paper, she unearthed a gold mine of designer clothing. Tossing aside piles of silky tops and overpriced jeans, Blair pulled out a black sheath dress, almost exactly like the one Audrey Hepburn wore in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. With an uncharacteristic squeal, Blair threw her arms around her oldest friend's slim torso. Serena seemed to stiffen and Blair pulled away, looking into Serena's cerulean eyes with a quizzical expression on her face.

"What's wrong? Did Humphrey dump you again?" Blair said Humphrey the way she'd say, "Turd sandwich."

"Nah," Serena said, keeping her eyes fixed on the black dress, crumpled up on the dirty floor.

"What then? Spit it out," Blair's impatience was beginning to reach epic heights.

"I- I, um," Serena continued to stare at the dress as if it was the fascinating object she'd ever encountered.

Blair rolled her eyes and glanced at her chipped nails, wishing that she could bring a nail file into this godforsaken place. The nurses had searched her when she'd arrived, confiscating anything that was slightly pointy, for fear of self-mutilation.

"IsleptwithChuck," Serena blurted.

Immediately Blair looked up, her cheeks turning pink with rage, "You did WHAT?!"

"Look Blair, I'm sorry. It was a one night stand thing, we were both drunk and….." Serena trailed off, afraid of invoking the Wrath of Blair.

Too late, sweetie.

"I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses." Under normal circumstances Blair would have gotten up and walked out the room, her head held high. In this hellhole, that was no longer possible, so she settled for the next best thing.

"Get out! Get the fuck out!" Blair shrieked at the top of her lungs, ripping tissue paper and throwing clothes, anything she could get her hands on, in blind fury.

Serena wasted no time, grabbing her Sidekick and leaving in flurry of blonde hair and her signature scent of Calla Lily.

Blair resigned herself to sitting by the window, her cheek resting against the cool glass; energy depleted. The sound of high heels squeaking against the waxed floor made Blair's shoulder muscles tense visibly. She really didn't want to deal with Serena right now. Not ever. But like the plague, Serena had a habit of showing up where she wasn't wanted. Sure enough, Serena appeared at the edge of the doorway, her normally smiling face solemn. Both she and Blair knew, in some odd way, what was about to happen. And to Blair, there was a twinge of sadness, but she mainly felt relief, like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was certain that later there would be tears, mourning for her childhood friend, but right now, it felt right.

"If I had known it would end like this, I never would have told you."


End file.
